


Oblivious

by Speechless



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Denial of Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, M/M, Rimming, Top Harry, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speechless/pseuds/Speechless
Summary: "You say it's nothing serious after you've been obsessing over it for months," Liam observes, pausing their videogame. "But now you barely talk about it-""You guys fucking ignore me whenever I try!" Louis shouts, bumping his shoulder against Liam's and hurting himself in the process."You're postponing sex, when it's obvious that Luke's up for it at this point." Liam ignores him. "For some reason you've left Harry in the dark about it-""What?!" Louis snaps, banging his controller against the coffee table. "I have not!""And no matter how blatant it is, no matter how fucking ridiculous you both get when it comes to it-""Shut your hole." Louis urges, pinching his thigh, as soon as Harry enters the room. "Shush."* Where Louis gets a little crush on Luke andfor some reasonHarry starts acting weird *





	1. Chapter 1

_He's not talking to him.  
  
Not after what he's done, not after all the times he refused to admit his mistake.  
  
Fuck this.  
  
Harry's not talking to him either, but Louis doesn't care.  
  
He's not the one who fucked up._  
  


 

There's this band opening their concerts now.  
  
They're cool.  
  
Louis found them, obviously, considering he's the only one in the band who can actually spot talent.  
He's not saying that Five Seconds of Summer are the best band in the world, they're just four guys with cute faces, a weird accent and a few catchy songs - which is not at all One Direction's case.  
  
There's five guys in One Direction, completely different situation.  
  
Louis would happily leave Liam behind most days, but that's not the point now.  
  
The point is Louis is kinda starting to think maybe it'd be nice if Luke fucked him once or twice.  
  
He's also starting to think Luke looked pretty nice in their YouTube videos and he has the kind of face Louis likes to look at, when he's sucking cock.  
  
Truth is, Louis is starting to think that Luke's pretty face might be one of the reasons he wanted 5SOS on tour with them.  
  
He says he's straight, but who doesn't, at least once.  
  
Louis just needs to find the right way to show him how wrong he is.  
  
He's working on that.  
  
  


 

Harry's grumpy.  
  
It doesn't happen often, that's why Louis gets offended as soon as Harry frowns.  
  
He likes him better when he's silly and happy and not influencing him with his negative feelings.  
  
Louis has enough negative feelings already.  
  
Harry's not the best actor, he's not even a decent actor, but he honestly loves being on stage, so the concert wasn't really affected by his bad mood.  
  
Louis' night is going to be, though.  
  
They get back to their hotel room after having a beer with the boys and, well, the other boys.  
  
Louis was so horny and stuck with his dirty thoughts he had to take a sip from Luke's bottle to pretend he's making any kind of progress.  
  
He's still thinking about it when Harry slaps him on the back of his neck.  
  
"Put those stinky shoes out." he orders, trying to peel his skinny jeans off his legs.  
  
Louis resists the urge to slap him.  
  
Well, he does, a little bit, but just on his shoulder. It doesn't count.  
  
"Nobody told you to share a room with me." he retorts, lying on the bed just so he can shove his feet in Harry's face. "So you either leave or breathe through your mouth."  
  
Harry doesn't even twist his ankle, he doesn't even insult him.  
  
That's when Louis actually starts to get worried.  
  
He sits back up, reaching out until Harry gives up and accepts his help to finally get out of his jeans.  
  
Louis balls them up and throws them into the corner just to get a reaction out of him, but Harry barely notices, focusing on removing his socks instead.  
  
"You got your period, huh?" Louis tries, rubbing a hand on Harry's flat stomach.  
  
"That's good news." Harry replies, still with that weird pout on his face. "Means I'm not pregnant."  
  
Then he kicks Louis' shoes out of the room and he yanks him to his feet.  
  
Louis hates it when Harry throws him over his shoulder to take him places, so he decides to go to the bathroom on his own.  
  
Washing his feet won't kill him.  
  
He goes back and Harry still looks angry, his expression doesn't change, no matter how much deodorant Louis sprays around the room.  
  
Maybe, just maybe, Harry's upset for some other reason.  
  
Louis is just gonna give him a little time to calm down, he's just gonna close his eyes for five minutes.  
  
Then he's gonna ask him what's wrong.  
  
Ten minutes, tops.  
  
  


 

Harry's even grumpier in the morning.  
  
Louis wakes up to the sound of the shower running and he still sincerely hopes only five minutes have gone by.  
  
But there's light filtering through the curtains and Louis is a really bad friend.  
  
They have an interview today so he's going to have to wait a bit longer before he gets another chance to talk to Harry.  
  
But it's not his fault, washing his feet clearly drained the last of his energy. So, if he thinks about it, it's actually Harry's fault.  
  
  


 

This time each of them has their own room and Louis is too cold to care about that.  
  
He manages to grab his phone from the bedside table only after five minutes of scoffing, spitting out a muttered curse after he knocks down the lamp.  
  
He also considers throwing his Iphone against the wall when the light coming from the screen almost blinds him, but he still needs it.  
  
Harry doesn't pick up on the first try, but that's okay, Louis can wait.  
  
When he finally hears his voice he almost regrets insisting, though.  
  
"What." Harry grumbles, probably shifting under the covers.  
  
Louis does too, but he still can't find any warmth in this damn huge bed.  
  
"C'm here, 'm cold." He mutters, rubbing his feet on the sheets.  
  
For a moment he can only hear Harry's breathing and it takes him a while to realize he's fallen back asleep.  
  
"Harold!" He yells into the phone, swallowing his laughter when Harry gasps.  
  
Then he realizes another thing: that asshole hang up on him.  
  
If he wasn't freezing to death, he'd run into his room to punch him in the balls.  
  
Luckily for him, Harry was smart enough to drag his sleepy ass all the way over to Louis' room.  
  
It's dark in there, so Louis can wear a proud smirk without Harry noticing.  
  
"God, how are you always so warm." He wonders, curling up against his body as soon as Harry gets under the covers. "Yeah, much better." he adds, throwing an arm around Harry's torso.  
  
It would be so easy to fall asleep right now, all warm and cozy and feeling cocky about Harry leaving his bed only to give him what he needs, but it would also be wrong.  
  
Louis is better than that.  
  
Kind of.  
  
"Speak." he mumbles, forcing himself to keep his eyes open.  
  
He can't see Harry's face but he can hear him sigh, can feel him tense up.  
  
"Now." he says, pinching his hip.  
  
"I'm in a bad mood." Harry mumbles, slapping his hand away.  
  
Louis pinches him again, making his best effort to hurt him in that same exact spot, but he's already considering something else.  
  
"That much was pretty clear, Harry." he comments, rolling his eyes. "I wanted you to tell me why."  
  
Harry sighs, he slaps his hand away again, actually hurting him this time.  
  
"Guess I'm just tired." he lies.  
  
Louis is sure he's lying, he knows him too well to fall for that.  
  
But he also knows him well enough to understand it's time to drop the subject. It was getting boring, anyway.  
  
"Poor baby." he coos, smoothing a hand on his stomach. "What can I do to make you feel better, I wonder."  
  
That's when Harry's body finally _speaks_ with him.  
  
He feels his muscles tensing under his fingertips, he hears him not breathing for a few seconds.  
  
Louis smiles.  
  
"I don't know." Harry mumbles, moving slightly to make Louis' hand slip further down.  
  
He was onto it already.  
  
Louis distractedly touches his navel on his way to Harry's briefs, tearing a startled laugh out of him, then he rests his hand on his cock.  
  
It's not hard yet, but it's definitely interested.  
  
"Would a little handjob help?" he asks him, leaving a tiny kiss on his shoulder. "What do you think?"  
  
Harry bends his leg but Louis' hand stays right where it is, not moving yet, as Harry turns his head to look at him.  
  
"I think," he starts, licking his lips. "A little blowjob would definitely help."  
  
Louis scoffs.  
  
If this was the first time he heard Harry say that, he would probably laugh a little.  
  
But it's happened before and it stopped being funny.  
  
That's why he removes his hand from Harry's crotch, he climbs on top of him and he turns the lamp on.  
  
So Harry can see how sick Louis is of hearing that.  
  
Harry grins, dimples carving misleading cute little holes in his face.  
  
"No." Louis declares, sitting cross-legged on his side of the bed.  
  
Harry rubs one of his big hands all over his face and once he puts it back down his smile has disappeared.  
  
Damn him and his obsession with blowjobs.  
  
It's not that Louis wouldn't like to try that. It's actually quite the opposite.  
  
As long as they get each other off under the covers every now and then, it's fine. It's quick, it's easy and it's always fun.  
  
Harry's got a big cock, Louis' got small hands and they're both young and horny enough to forget about it soon after it happens.  
  
It just works.  
  
But if Louis starts putting his mouth on Harry, things are gonna get really risky really soon.  
  
He's not even concerned about catching feelings or anything. He already shares a house and a bed and too many secrets with him to worry about that. His feelings for Harry have been there for such a long time that he had to stop trying to name them at least a year ago.  
  
The reason he can't go past a friendly handjob lies in his lack of control.  
  
If he knows himself enough, once Harry's cock gets into his mouth, it won't be long before he gets him to stick it up his ass. That's just how these things go.  
  
So, no. No blowjob. Not tonight. Not ever.  
  
"Do you wanna come or not?" he threatens him, as soon as Harry's eyes are back on his face.  
  
Harry munches on his bottom lip, eyes big and glossy and pleading.  
  
"Yup." he gives up. "Come back here."  
  
Then he seems to struggle with his decision for a brief moment, before reaching out and switching the lamp off.  
  
That's it.  
  
Atta boy.  
  
  


 

The boys noticed and it's killing him.  
  
It's never happened before, it's never taken him _this long_ to get someone to mess around with him and the frustration is eating him up alive.  
  
Niall and Liam firmly believe Luke is straight, plain and simple, which means Louis should just give up on him.  
  
What the fuck do Liam and Niall know.  
  
Niall Horan, the same guy who asked Louis if he could use his phone, only to be caught sticking his nose into his naughty pictures folder ten minutes later.  
  
Liam Payne, the same guy who got drunk a few months back, turned down a girl who wanted to fuck him and later tried to get Louis to "sleep" with him because he didn't want to be on his own, and the raging boner in his pants was part of that conversation as well.  
  
Straights do not exist. Straight is nothing but a state of mind.  
  
  


 

"I'll get him drunk." he announces on a Wednesday at 3 a.m., just as Zayn begins rolling the fifth joint of the night, eyes red and puffy and unimpressed.  
  
"That wouldn't count, though."  
  
Louis scoffs.  
  
"Of course it counts, Zayn." he corrects him, leaning closer to him and only stopping when he's an inch from his face.  
  
"The secret is getting drunk as well." he whispers. "That way we can shag and pretend we had no idea what we were doing. Nobody gets hurt, nothing gets complicated and I get him out of my fucking mind."  
  
Zayn chuckles at that, he blows a small cloud of smoke right on his nose, then he gets closer and he presses his lips on his mouth, slow and sweet.  
  
"If you're that desperate," he mumbles, placing the joint between those same lips he's just kissed. "I'll fuck you."  
  
Louis smokes a little, he tries to break free from the tangled sheets of the hotel bed, then he gives up, he smokes a little more, he lets out a little whine, and finally "That's very nice of you, Zayn." he says. "But I'm into blondes this week. Come back on Monday."  
  
  


 

He's angry when he wakes up and grumpy in the shower and just livid at the table, having breakfast, with three pairs of eyes fixed on his face.  
  
Just as Harry appears into the room and begins walking towards them, Louis decides to break the silence and "I dreamt he fucked me." inform them. "Stop staring at me."  
  
Then Harry sits down beside him, he greets the boys, he smiles at him and Louis just puts it aside. For now.  
  
  


 

On Friday their night out gets cancelled because some fucker leaked information and now there's a shit ton of paparazzi waiting for them outside of the club they were supposed to go to.  
  
It's definitely too late to come up with a backup plan, plus it started raining in fucking Dublin and, on top of all that, the other boys locked up in Michael's room to watch some dumb movie and Louis wasn't even invited.  
  
None of them were.  
  
Now that's just rude.  
  
  


 

"They did invite us." Harry casually tells him later that night, trying to dry his hair with a towel. "I declined because I thought we'd get bored."  
  
Louis' about to throw the remote control at him, but then he remembers about the last time he did that, about the shattered mirror and the noise and the complaints and the bribes they had to pay to keep the entire hotel staff quiet.  
  
"Harry, what the fuck!" he yells. "What's wrong with you!"  
  
Harry suddenly stops what he's doing, he lets the towel fall on the floor, he frowns.  
  
"I could ask you the same question." he replies, staring at his face.  
  
Louis is so fucking mad at him.  
  
"Is this any better than what they had in mind?" he says, looking around their room. "Aren't you having a fucking blast?"  
  
Harry sighs, he disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes and Louis actually considers sticking his dirty socks into his pillowcase.  
  
When he finally gets back that stupid frown is still on his face.  
  
His hair is still damp, curls forming against the base of his neck, his cross necklace dangling as he bends over to pick up the towel he had left on the floor.  
  
Louis rolls his eyes at his obsession with tidying up.  
  
"If you're going to be a bitch all night," Harry mutters, carefully avoiding his face. "You might as well go to your room."  
  
Louis' eyebrows shoot upwards.  
  
"Is that so?" he challenges, already looking around to decide which object is going to impact with Harry's head first.  
  
Then Harry pads his naked feet across the room, coming to a halt once he reaches his side of the bed.  
  
He finally looks at him, for a long, tense moment Louis spends wondering if he's the one who's going to end up with an injury this time, and then "I never treat you like this." he tells him.  
  
Louis opens his mouth to say something but only a shaky breath comes out of it.  
  
He would like to tell Harry to jerk off, or fuck off or something-off that might offend him in any way, but nothing comes to mind as he gets up from the bed and decides to leave the room.  
  
  


 

Louis and Luke kiss for the first time that night, and Louis' not sure whether it was just luck or the result of his blatant flirting in the hallway.  
  
Whatever it was, it worked.  
  
Louis knocked on his door a little past midnight, he leaned against the wall opposite his room, he offered him a charged look, a small laugh.  
  
Luke laughed too, it was a confused one, a tad intrigued probably, and he "What?" shrugged.  
  
So Louis licked his lips and he just "I've been thinking about you." told him.  
  
There was a little too much alcohol running through his veins for him to be able to bite his tongue, or even run away after that absurd exchange.  
  
But Luke corked an eyebrow, he leaned against the door frame.  
  
That's when Louis saw it, for the first time, a little, interested spark in his eyes.  
  
"About what exactly?" he asked, staring at him so hard Louis almost diverted his gaze.  
  
Instead he pushed himself off the wall, he moved a few steps towards him and he laughed again, loud and unrestrained, he nervously fixed his fringe.  
  
"Is there a specific way you'd like me to answer that?" he prompted, looking up at him, now almost serious, just the hint of a pleased smile lingering on his lips.  
  
And then Luke stepped outside, he looked around, he drew a long breath.  
  
Louis just stood there, tense and electric, waiting for him to do something.  
  
So Luke stepped even closer, "Something like this, maybe." he whispered, before kissing him.  
  
  


 

None of them react the way he expected.  
  
He can't tell them while they're all in the same room because, well, that means Harry's there too and Louis' definitely not talking to Harry today, or tomorrow or any day until he apologizes.  
  
But aside from that.  
  
So he tells Liam first.  
  
Not because Liam's his favorite, that is absolutely not the case.  
  
But Liam's the first one he runs into the next morning, while he's back from his workout, all sweaty, and panting and smelling weird.  
  
"I did it." Louis announces, carefully avoiding getting too close to the source of the smell.  
  
Liam presses the small towel he's holding to his forehead, he sticks his key into the lock to open the door of his room.  
  
"Fucked him?" he asks, seemingly unimpressed.  
  
Louis presses his lips together, he changes his mind about punching his back when he sees the dark stain of sweat running through the cotton of his tank top.  
  
"Working on that." he retorts, annoyed at the way Liam's basically ignoring him. "Kissed him for now."  
  
"Good for you." is all Liam tells him, as he locks himself into his room.  
  
The next one he turns to is Niall, sitting down on his bed and maybe, probably -most definitely- waking him up.  
  
"Who the fuck let you in?" Niall garbles, hiding his face into the pillow.  
  
Niall's so naive. He shares a room with Zayn and he still expects him to reject Louis' requests.  
  
"Doesn't matter, Niall." Louis rants, pulling on his T-shirt to force him to roll over.  
  
Niall does, scoffing and cursing under his breath, but he does and "What do you want." he mutters, frowning at him.  
  
Louis wiggles his eyebrows.  
  
"I did it, Niall." he says.  
  
Niall yawns, he only covers his mouth when he is done, his brain clearly still struggling to send the right impulse to his limbs, and then "Did you fuck him, then?" he asks, eyes already slipping closed.  
  
What's with their obsession with Louis' sex life.  
  
"Not yet." Louis corrects him, gritting his teeth. "But I kissed him, it's a start, innit?"  
  
Niall's almost sleeping by now, but he stretches his arms, he makes a sound you'd expect from an animal more than a human being - maybe it's an Irish thing - as he tries to wake his body up, he cracks one eye open.  
  
"How was it?" he finally croaks out.  
  
Louis bites his bottom lip, he tilts his head to the side.  
  
"Umh, yeah, it was nice, I guess?"  
  
Niall opens his other eye.  
  
"Are you asking me?" he mutters, pushing out yet another yawn.  
  
Louis shrugs.  
  
"It was fine." he presses.  
  
But Niall looks more awake now, more interested.  
  
"You've had better, yeah?" he prompts, smiling in a way Louis can't quite understand.  
  
Louis shrugs again.  
  
"It's not what I'm striving for, anyway. It's just a start." he blurts out, already getting up from the bed.  
  
Niall's still smiling, if you can call it that, he's resting his head against the headboard now.  
  
"Yup." he says, raising his eyebrows. "You've had much better." he repeats, nodding his head.  
  
Louis does not get him today.  
  
  


 

He only manages to tell Zayn after the interview, relying on the fact their host forced him to utter his first words of the day, accustomed as he is with Zayn's refusal to speak as soon as he wakes up and for a few hours after.  
  
He clings to his arms as soon as he steps outside to light up a cigarette, he leans in.  
  
"Luke made a move last night." he reveals, a smug smile stretching his lips.  
  
Zayn breathes out a puff of smoke, he nods.  
  
Louis won't allow such disrespect.  
  
"Do not pull the speech impaired shit on me!" he warns him, flicking him on his forehead.  
  
Zayn barely acknowledges it, frowning and glaring at him for a brief moment.  
  
He takes another drag from his cigarette.  
  
"Did you shag?" he asks, looking at the building in front of them like it's much more interesting than Louis' face.  
  
"Not yet." Louis says, for what feels like the hundredth time today. "But we're getting there." he adds, shifting on his feet.  
  
"Good luck." Zayn comments, letting his cigarette fall to the ground.  
  
Louis bites on the inside of his cheeks. Zayn's already using less words, it's down to two now. That's his way of shutting people up.  
  
" 's going on?" he hisses. "Is this some kind of prank where I get ignored and dismissed and you guys see how long I can keep it up before I snap and kill someone?"  
  
It would probably be Liam he'd kill first.  
  
No reason in particular, he just has the right face for it.  
  
"What are you up to?" Louis presses, squinting his eyes at him.  
  
Zayn shrugs.  
  
"Nothing." he casually replies, actually looking at him for the first time since their conversation began.  
  
Louis stares at his face, getting more and more paranoid.  
  
Down to one word now.  
  
"Zayn," Louis grunts, stomping his foot like an annoyed child. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"  
  
Zayn shakes his head, he makes a surprised sound, a quick "Huh?", which is not even a word, he's totally fucking with him, Louis is totally going to go back in and kill Liam if this shit doesn't stop.  
  
"No?" he tries again, instinctively moving out of the way as Zayn heads to the door.  
  
Zayn's vocal chords clocked out already, Louis realizes, as his friend walks past him and all he offers to soothe his nerves is a peace sign.  
  
  


 

"Is it true?"  
  
Harry's voice is nothing more than a whisper, warm and quick against Louis' face, familiar.  
  
Louis makes a pained noise, the one he uses to discourage people from waking him up.  
  
Then he feels Harry's fingers tracing his face, forehead to chin, light and delicate.  
  
Louis hums, this time it means something different, more like _go on_.  
  
Harry drags his hand all the way back, up to his eyelids, until he's softly scratching the top of his head.  
  
Louis' too relaxed to snap about his hair being messed with.  
  
"Did it really happen?" Harry insists, sounding quiet but urgent at the same time.  
  
Louis finally blinks, fighting his whole system to open his eyes. Harry's face is all blurry but Louis can distinguish his sharp jaw, the curve of his bottom lip.  
  
"Mad at you." he mumbles, breathing out. "Not speaking to you." he clarifies. "Mean to me." he adds, despite his resolution to keep quiet. "Leave me alone." he even spits out, ignoring the fact he is actually leaning into Harry's touch, tipping his chin up, taking his comforting smell in.  
  
Harry does something, he moves around, feet bumping under the sheets, curls falling against Louis' nose, and Louis doesn't even know what it is, his eyes slipped closed on their own, but he somehow ends up in Harry's arms, mouth pressed to his chest.  
  
"Can't breathe." he complains, and it's all muffled by Harry's T-shirt but he's sure it was clear.  
  
Harry holds him even tighter.  
  
"Me neither." he replies, resting his chin on Louis' head.  
  
Louis opens his eyes again, only darkness surrounding him, and yes, he's going to ignore that.  
  
Then Harry loosens his grip, he lets Louis catch his breath, insult him a little.  
  
"He really kissed you?" he asks. "Is it true?"  
  
Louis looks up at him, choking at the sight of Harry's face, because that's how he looks when he is troubled, when he is _hurt_.  
  
Louis is going to ignore that as well.  
  
"It's true." he replies. And then he's about to let it go, but how could he, so he frowns at him and "Did I need your permission?" he spits out.  
  
Harry sighs, his arms still holding him close, and he bites his bottom lip.  
  
"No." he states, looking into his eyes.  
  
Then he presses his lips against his forehead and Louis just lies there, helpless and angry and sleepy and confused, he lets him do his thing, he winces when Harry brushes his nose against his face, looking for his mouth.  
  
But, despite everything, when Harry starts kissing him all Louis really feels is relief.  
  
  


 

"I didn't actually touch it, y' know," Louis' saying, splayed out on the huge couch in the middle of their suite. "But he pressed it on my thigh as we were making out."  
  
Niall hums, Liam turns the air conditioning off, then on again, Zayn nods staring at the TV screen.  
  
Louis throws two cushions onto the floor, he clears his throat.  
  
"Can't say it's huge," he continues, twisting a strand of hair around his index finger. "but it's not small, either. Besides, size doesn't matter, am I right lads?!" he _yells_ , bursting into laughter at his own lame joke.  
  
Niall shrugs, Liam abandons the other couch to lie on the cold floor, Zayn gives him a half smile.  
  
Wrong timing?  
  
Wrong audience?  
  
Louis doesn't know what it is.  
  
"We haven't really had a chance to get down to it." he starts over, looking up at the green ceiling. "Yet." he adds, smiling.  
  
"But if everything goes as planned, tonight might be the night." he concludes, raising his fists in victory.  
  
Then he sighs, he turns his head and he sighs again.  
  
Niall's sleeping, Liam's putting a jacket on, Zayn left the room.  
  
  


 

He gets back to the room at 5 in the morning, trying not that hard to keep quiet, almost falling to his death.  
  
He hadn't noticed Liam, who once again mistook the floor for a bed.  
  
He takes the wrong turn and he ends up in the bathroom, then he finally finds one of the bedrooms, where the bed is all messy but empty somehow, but he remembers he's running on an empty stomach.  
  
So he goes back, looking for the kitchen, where - as you might expect if you're in One Direction - Harry Styles is sipping on tea and snacking on celery.  
  
Sleepy.  
  
Grumpy.  
  
Naked.  
  
Louis barely reacts. It gets old, after a while.  
  
He walks past him and he goes straight for the fridge, he makes up his mind after a minute of blank staring, then he lays a jar of cherry jam on the counter.  
  
Harry's looking at him, eyelids heavy over his green eyes, hair messed up and tangled, mouthful of celery.  
  
Louis raises an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm hungry." he informs him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Feed me." he adds, squinting his eyes.  
  
Harry stops chewing for a moment and the space between them gets suddenly warm, charged.  
  
Louis bites back a smile.  
  
"You have two hands, you know." Harry grumbles, furrowing his dark eyebrows.  
  
Then he shakes his head at him, he pretends not to care, sipping on his cold tea.  
  
"Fucking child." he insults him, laying two slices of bread on top of the counter a moment later.  
  
Louis looks at him, he hums one of their lamest songs as he watches, the one that goes _'cause no one ever looks so good in a dress and it hurts 'cause I know you won't be mine toniiiight_ , he even moves his head side to side, ignoring Harry's glare.  
  
"Where the hell have you been?" he spits out, interrupting his performance.  
  
Louis' mouth drops open, his arms fall to his sides.  
  
"Excuse me, who do you think you're talking to." he scolds, snatching his sandwich out of Harry's hands.  
  
Then he bites into it, he kinda chokes on it because he still has something to say.  
  
"I swear to God, I don't know what's going on with you these days." he complains, drinking some of Harry's tea.  
  
" 's cold." he points out, placing the cup back into his hand.  
  
"Don't know what's going on with all of you." he says, gesturing so much some jam ends up splattered on the wall.  
  
Harry bites his lip.  
  
"Brush your teeth." he commands, turning around. "And come to bed."  
  
  


 

Luke's cock is not big, it's not small though.  
  
It's pretty, average size, it smells nice, it doesn't taste like anything 'cause he probably showered twice, figuring out what would happen.  
  
Louis' not putting too much effort into it, he's sucking on it slowly and sloppily, he stops looking up at his face once he realizes Luke isn't going to open his eyes any time soon, focused as he is on not coming five minutes into it.  
  
He was good yesterday, when Louis gave him that agonizingly slow handjob, after hours of making out, when Luke was so horny his eyes went glossy.  
  
Despite that he managed to last a while, he even tentatively reached out for Louis' erection.  
  
Louis didn't let him touch him.  
  
He doesn't like distractions while he's at work.  
  
But now Luke's barely participating, Louis never thought he could get bored _giving head_.  
  
That just doesn't happen.  
  
Or does it?  
  
He looks up again, he takes Luke's cock out of his mouth to slap it against his tongue, and his eyes finally snap open.  
  
But then, with no warning whatsoever, he comes.  
  
Maybe Louis will be luckier once he gets him to put it in his ass.  
  
Hopefully.  
  
  


 

"You look disappointed."  
  
Louis sticks his elbow into Liam's stomach.  
  
"Shut up." he hisses, squinting his eyes at him.  
  
Liam chuckles. Fucking Liam and his fucking abs.  
  
"Don't mind him, Tommo!" Niall shouts from the other side of the empty venue. "Better luck next tiiiime!" he adds, as his voice echoes all around them.  
  
Louis' definitely too lazy to go all the way over there and kick Niall is his bad knee. Maybe Later.  
  
"Better luck with what?" Harry questions from behind him.  
  
Louis gasps, he slaps him on his forehead, hard and mean.  
  
"Mind your business." he spits out, rushing to his mic stand.  
  
But his plan cannot possibly work, considering Harry's spot is right next to him.  
  
"Since when do we have secrets?" Harry whispers to him, just as the stage lights get turned on, blinding them.  
  
"It's rehearsals, Harry." Louis grunts. "Rehearse."  
  
  


 

"Why are you here?" is Zayn's way of greeting him. "Aren't you supposed to be fucking blondie?"  
  
Louis crosses the room, he goes straight for the joint held tight between Zayn's thumb and index finger.  
  
"Making him wait a little bit." he explains, smoking right before Zayn's annoyed face.  
  
"Come here." he tells him though, rolling his eyes, opening up his arms.  
  
And Louis is so fucking frustrated.  
  
So he lets Zayn hold him, he lets him keep the joint even when it's his turn to smoke, lets him comfort him even though he doesn't even know what's wrong.  
  
"Do you know what it is?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.  
  
"You're doing that thing where you speak to me in your head and you expect me to know what the hell you're talking about." Zayn informs him, gently pushing him away to grab his beer.  
  
He's right, Louis' doing that.  
  
He's just tired and _frustrated_ and now he's also really really really high, fuck, he forgot to have dinner again.  
  
He's hungry, now that he thinks about it.  
  
He's cold and his hands are itching, Luke sent him a text but he can't distinguish the blurred letters on the screen.  
  
He wants food, he wants a jumper, he wants a cigarette and a shower and that Spiderman lamp he saw on Amazon last night.  
  
"That's not it." Zayn says, placing a cigarette between Louis' lips. "None of that."  
  
Louis makes a surprised noise, then he gets it.  
  
He's doing that thing where he thinks he's speaking to himself but he's actually saying everything out loud.  
  
"What is it then?" he mutters, leaning back against the arm rest.  
  
Zayn gives him a perplexed look, which soon changes into a shocked expression.  
  
"You really don't know?" he asks. "Are you serious?"  
  
Louis has no idea what's going on.  
  
Has he said that out loud?  
  
Zayn's staring at him, and look, his cigarette fell onto the floor.  
  
"What?" he stutters, rubbing his forehead.  
  
Zayn chuckles, he wraps an arm around his shoulders.  
  
"It's okay, love." he coos. "You'll figure it out."  
  
  


 

 

"You say it's nothing serious after you've been obsessing over it for months," Liam observes, pausing their videogame. "But now you barely talk about it-"  
  
"You guys fucking ignore me whenever I try!" Louis shouts, bumping his shoulder against Liam's and hurting himself in the process.  
  
"You're postponing sex, when it's obvious that Luke's up for it at this point." Liam ignores him. "For some reason you've left Harry in the dark about it-"  
  
"What?!" Louis snaps, banging his controller against the coffee table. "I have not!"  
  
"And no matter how blatant it is, no matter how fucking ridiculous you both get when it comes to it-"  
  
"Shut your hole." Louis urges, pinching his thigh, as Harry enters the room. "Shush."  
  
Liam goes quiet, aside from a little giggle, and they watch Harry as he silently paces through the room, locking himself in the bathroom.  
  
Louis lets out an exhausted sigh, slumping against the couch cushions.  
  
Liam shakes his head, he smiles.  
  
"No matter how obvious it is to literally everyone on the planet," Liam starts over, not minding Louis' fed up expression. "You're still too scared to admit it."  
  
That catches his attention though, makes him straighten his back, raise his eyebrows.  
  
"Admit what?"  
  
Liam frowns this time.  
  
"Are you for real?" He asks, shifting to get a better look of Louis' face.  
  
Louis shrugs.  
  
"Jesus Christ, it's unbelievable."  
  
Louis' done with this shit and Zayn's shit and everyone on motherfuckin planet Earth's shit.  
  
"Fucking. Talk." He spells out, gritting his teeth.  
  
Liam huffs out a shocked laugh.  
  
"Louis." He says, placing a hand on the back of his neck. "You and Harry are in love with each other." he tells him, like it's nothing, like it's just there, for everyone to see.  
  
Like it's true.  
  
Louis doesn't even react and Liam's face suddenly gets a concerned look.  
  
"You actually didn't know that?"  
  
  
  


That is literally the stupidest thing Louis has ever heard in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys <3
> 
> This one hasn't caught much attention so far but to be honest the first chapter is not that good.  
> So I tried to make it more interesting.  
> It's longer than what I had planned, but it'll just be one more chapter till it's over.
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

It's simply not true.  
  
If Louis was in love with Harry he would fucking _notice_.  
  
Liam's out of his mind.  
  
  


"You." Louis hisses, barging into Niall's room.  
  
Niall drops his cheetos all over his bed, he groans.  
  
"What is it now?" He whines, grabbing his head with both hands.  
  
Louis levels him with a furious look.  
  
"Do you think I'm in love with Harry?" he asks him, loud and clear, going straight for an answer.  
  
Niall looks back at him, confused and suspicious, then he shrugs, he wipes his hand on the sheets.  
  
"Why are you asking me that," he starts, clearly trying to hold back a smile. "Like you believe there's more than one possible answer to that question?"  
  
Louis' laughter is more about nerves than amusement.  
  
"Fuck you." He chirps, raising his eyebrows.  
  
Then he steps closer, he leans over the bed and he throws a cheeto in Niall's hair.  
  
  


The blinds are closed but there's enough light filtering through for Louis to realize Harry's in bed but he's not asleep, eyes half closed, body suddenly tense.  
  
He closes the door behind himself and Harry turns his head to look at him, no specific expression on his face.  
  
Louis breathes in, he breathes out.  
  
He walks up to the bed, he climbs onto it, he crawls up to Harry, he settles on his lap.  
  
Harry keeps still, keeps lying on his back, but when Louis bends over to look at him, he realizes how fast he's breathing.  
  
Louis 'careful not to rest his ass against Harry's crotch, using his shoulders for support as he gets even closer to his face.  
  
"If you were in love with me," he says, resisting the urge to clear his throat at how insecure his voice sounds.  
  
Harry flinches at that, his chest stops rising for a moment, his eyes grow wide enough for Louis to notice.  
  
Then Louis breathes in, quietly, carefully, he focuses even harder on Harry's face.  
  
"You'd tell me, right?" He finally asks, tilting his head to the side.  
  
And Harry's still frozen, still quiet, staring back and breathing faster.  
  
Then he licks his lips, he furrows his eyebrows.  
  
When he speaks his voice is low and raspy, burning hot.  
  
"Would you?" He asks.  
  
Louis blinks at him, he swallows dry.  
  
Then he sees it, the way Harry's clenching his jaw, gritting his teeth, struggling to tame his breathing.  
  
Louis lets go of his shoulders and he straightens his back, hips slowly coming down until he's actually sitting on him.  
  
Harry jolts up, hands flying up to rest on Louis' waist. Then he freezes again.  
  
He's still waiting for Louis 'answer, just as much as Louis' waiting for him to reply.  
  
But none of them does.  
  
Instead, Louis leans down, he squints his eyes at him, he clicks his tongue, he holds back an insult.  
  
Then he kisses him.  
  
  


Louis can't believe he's fucking him even as it happens.  
  
But the moment they started kissing a switch in his head went off.  
  
Maybe it's also the fact Harry fucking _snapped_ , he pushed his tongue into Louis' mouth, he yanked him down and he kissed him hard and deep, hips grinding, hands gripping him so hard Louis made up his mind about it in a matter of seconds.  
  
But then again, maybe he's lying to himself.  
  
Maybe this what he had in mind when he first entered Harry's room.  
  
And now here they are, shagging like two horny teenagers, moaning and panting and it's all so rushed, so hot, so fucked up.  
  
It's fucked up.  
  
Harry's been shoving his cock inside of him for what, three minutes?, and Louis' in pain and he's uncomfortable, squished under Harry's huge body, pinned to the mattress, and he's suffocating, a mouthful of pillow keeping him from actually breathing, and he's also thinking about how _fucked up_ this is, what the hell are they doing, and Harry's cock is actually in his ass right now, it's not like he can ignore it.  
  
And despite the fact he tried to open himself up, before Harry fucking flipped and rolled him over onto his tummy, he still feels too tight and too small, tiny, helpless under Harry's weight.  
  
It burns and it hurts and Louis needs to change position, he probably needs to fucking stop this, Harry needs to slow down, go easier on him, let him catch his fucking breath.  
  
It's rushed and it's uncomfortable and it's awkward, it's just wrong, that's what it is, this is the dumbest thing they've ever done.  
  
Harry's not even good in bed, he has no idea what the fuck he's doing, he's too big, his cock is too much, he's trying too hard.  
  
He's been fucking him for, what, five minutes?  
  
It's only been five minutes and Louis just. He just comes.  
  
  


He wasn't even drunk, he wasn't even high.  
  
He wasn't even _himself_.  
  
It's Liam's fault and it's Niall's fault and it's Zayn's fault for sticking their noses into his business, sticking horrible ideas into his head to the point where he asked Harry to stick his cock up his ass.  
  
That was just a really bad idea.  
  
  


They avoid each other.  
  
Harry gets on the tour bus and Louis goes hide in his bunk.  
  
Louis goes inspecting the venue on his skateboard and Harry sits on the stairs, keeps to himself.  
  
They get assigned to the same hotel room and none of them uses it.  
  
  


They're in Birmingham when it happens.  
  
Louis' chilling on the couch, playing that stupid fruit game on his phone, snacking on chips, drinking his second - maybe third - soda.  
  
They're all in the same room: Louis, Harry, Liam, Niall, Zayn and _the elephant_.  
  
All of them.  
  
Then, out of nowhere, Harry does it.  
  
He gets up from his armchair, taking advantage of the fact the other boys are too distracted by their Breaking Bad marathon to even notice, and he goes up to him, he leans over, he "Wanna do it again?" asks him.  
  
Louis loses his fruit ninja game and his cool in a matter of seconds, he almost drops his phone.  
  
Then he finds the guts to look up at Harry's face, at his eyes, his lips, his jaw, his everything, Jesus Christ.  
  
He feels like he hasn't seen him in years and it's just been one week, since they did _that_.  
  
"Do what?" Louis whispers, as his face starts burning.  
  
Harry's face drops, a stern expression barely hiding his disappointment in Louis' reaction.  
  
" _That_." he clarifies, as if it counts as making it clear.  
  
Louis just stares at him for a long moment, at Harry's pout, at that weird spark in his eyes, at his throat, as he swallows.  
  
Then he shrugs.  
  
"Where?" he casually asks him, diverting his gaze.  
  
  


He'd like to ask him where they're going but he physically can't, his heart is pumping too fast in his chest, in his head, in his throat for him to speak.  
  
So he just tries to breathe, tries not to trip and fall, or fucking pass out, as Harry pulls him into the hallway and then into another one and another one, till they stop.  
  
Louis looks around, then he looks back at him.  
  
"Here?!" he shrieks.  
  
But Harry just smiles at him, he gently pushes him aside and only at that point Louis notices the door behind him.  
  
Harry twists the handle, "After you." he says, as Louis peeks inside.  
  
It's a laundry room.  
  
Harry wants to fuck him in the hotel laundry room.  
  
It's so like Harry, suggesting something so ridiculous, so stupid, so damn offensive and expecting people to participate.  
  
It's so like Louis, accepting in the blink of an eye.  
  
  


Harry's busy locking the door when Louis realizes his hands are shaking.  
  
That's why he hides them in Harry's hair, pressing their mouths together before he has enough time to think otherwise.  
  
Harry kisses him like he wants to eat him up alive, like he wants to knock the air out of his lungs.  
  
It fucking works, Louis is not breathing, he's not thinking, he's barely functioning, mouth running wild between kisses, " _touch me, touch me, touch me_ " begging him.  
  
Harry's hands are everywhere, one moment he's holding his jaw and twisting his tongue inside of his mouth, the next one he's pressing himself against him and they're bumping into shelves and walls and who the fuck knows what else, because Louis can't even keep his eyes open with the way Harry's making him feel.  
  
He's touching him anywhere he can reach, but Louis can't stop " _touch me_ " asking, pulling on his shirt to keep him close.  
  
His eyes are still closed when Harry roughly breaks their kiss, grabs him by the shoulders, makes him turn around and face the wall.  
  
And then his eyes are still closed, but he feels his jeans being pulled down, then his briefs, then Harry's breath over the dip in his spine.  
  
He squeezes them shut even harder the moment Harry spreads his cheeks open with both hands, slowly swiping his tongue over his opening.  
  
Louis rests his head on his forearm as Harry eats him out, hungry and sloppy, willing his legs to support his own weight.  
  
Then it's not his tongue anymore, but two of Harry's fingers twisting inside of him, scissoring and stabbing and stretching him open, until it's three of Harry's fingers and Louis' literally drooling, sweating, chocking.  
  
He only manages to open his eyes when it all stops abruptly.  
  
Harry grabs him by the back of his neck, making him turn around.  
  
Their mouths collide again, their bodies clash against each other and Louis can't take this anymore.  
  
"Fuck me" is his new mantra. " _Fuck me_." he chokes out, as Harry lifts him up.  
  
Getting fucked on a washer has never been on his bucket list but that doesn't stop him from kicking his shoes off, throwing his pants onto the floor, spreading his thighs to let Harry find his place between them.  
  
It needs to happen quick because it shouldn't be happening in the first place, and Louis' head is spinning so hard with doubt and regret that if Harry doesn't hurry up and put that damn condom on he swears he's going to break down and cry.  
  
When Harry starts rubbing the tip of his cock against his hole it all goes away.  
  
Louis' mind goes more and more quiet with every inch Harry pushes inside of him, slow and relentless.  
  
Then all Louis can do is cling to him, move his hips against him, dig his nails into his back, and Harry keeps a steady rhythm, sending sparks shooting up Louis' spine with every thrust.  
  
Louis comes as the washer starts running its spin cycle, as Harry laughs his ass off and struggles to keep him still while snapping his hips forward, but Louis still manages to catch half a breath and "Was this part of your plan?" ask him.  
  
And maybe he's walking funny when they get back to their hotel room, maybe Harry came all over his T-shirt and it shows, maybe they made a mistake.  
  
Again.  
  
  


You're supposed to learn from your mistakes, aren't you.  
  
You fuck up once, oh well, my bad, won't happen again.  
  
You fuck up twice, oh shit, there we go, nobody's perfect, gonna fix it right away.  
  
But no, Louis doesn't make the same mistake twice.  
  
He makes it three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine times.  
  
He does it again, in a car Harry rented with the sole intent of fucking him on the backseat, and he does it once more in his dressing room, as Harry holds him up against the wall, clock ticking faster than usual.  
  
Then he does it again, in the hotel's restroom and on the tour bus and in a utility closet and in Liam's room just for the fun of it and in a room concealed behind a door that says _private_ right before their interview.  
  
Maybe Louis needs to make this mistake a hundred more times before he learns his lesson.  
  
So he just keeps making it, again and again and again.  
  
What can you do.  
  
_Oops_.  
  
  


"What's going on between you two?"  
  
It's Liam who asks them first.  
  
He doesn't just ask.  
  
He smiles, smug, he watches them carefully, he crosses his arms over his chest, giving Louis an interested look and, worst of it all, he does it in front of Zayn and Niall.  
  
Liam Payne, that son of a bitch.  
  
Harry's always been the worst actor.  
  
Louis kicks him underneath the table and he "Ouch!" yells, just as Niall puts his sandwich down to focus on the matter. Even Zayn is staring at them, Zayn Malik, the same person who refused to get up when Louis told him there was a Ufo hovering over their tour bus.  
  
It turned out to be a star but still, even before that, it wasn't interesting enough to catch Zayn's attention.  
  
Apparently, this is.  
  
Louis shrugs.  
  
"What do you mean?" he casually asks, sipping on his tea. His cup is actually empty, but what do they know.  
  
Suddenly everything goes quiet, the loudest silence Louis has ever heard falls upon them, and it's so heavy he needs to drag his eyes back up on Liam's face.  
  
He finds him the way he left him a minute ago, pleased smile on his face, suspicious spark in his eyes.  
  
Then he rubs his chin, "Harry?" he asks, keeping his eyes trained on Louis' face.  
  
Son of a bitch.  
  
Louis' mouth almost falls open but he clenches his jaw, he brings his empty cup up to his lips.  
  
"What's going on between you two?" Liam repeats, still staring at Louis' face, and only in that moment Louis realizes Zayn lifted up the tablecloth to make sure he doesn't try to communicate with Harry via kicking code.  
  
Louis feels so betrayed.  
  
His eyes dart to his left, where Harry's sitting, where's he's going pale and hyperventilating.  
  
Louis tries to channel his telepathic powers then, 'cause it's all he's got left, he squints his eyes at him, then he snaps them open, mouth hidden in his cup.  
  
Harry nods at him and Louis' heart skips a beat.  
  
He can _see it_ that he's going to mess it up.  
  
He can _fucking see it_ on his stupid face.  
  
"Yeah, umh-" Harry starts, stopping to clear his throat.  
  
Three heads suddenly turn towards him.  
  
Louis puts his cup down.  
  
Okay, no big deal. Worst case scenario: Harry tells them they've been fucking.  
  
It can't get any worse than that.  
  
"We, umh-" he goes again, torturing his index finger with his teeth.  
  
Jesus Christ, how can he be so slow.  
  
"Louis and I have been-" he says, then he fucking stops again, he looks down, he looks back up at him, he shakes his head, desperate.  
  
Jesus Christ.  
  
"Harry, just say it!" Louis snaps, finally kicking his shin.  
  
They're onto them, anyway.  
  
So Harry straightens his back, he brushes his hair out of his face and then he opens his mouth to take a deep breath.  
  
That's all he does, really.  
  
"We had sex." Louis huffs out, rolling his eyes. "That's it, we had sex."  
  
"That." Harry confirms, pointing his finger at him.  
  
Louis shrugs, like it's nothing, but his stomach is all tied up in knots, ears burning, hands sweating. .  
.  
He expects them to comment and whistle, maybe act like it's disgusting, and he's simply shocked when none of that happen. .  
.  
Liam nods, satisfied. Niall picks his sandwich up, Zayn lets go of the tablecloth.  
  
Louis' heart is still racing, trying to poke a hole through his chest, blood rushing to his face so fast he feels like his head is on fire.  
  
He can't even look at them anymore while they finish having breakfast and none of them speaks again, not until they're done, when Liam gets up and "Was that so hard?" asks him.  
  
Son of a bitch.  
  
  


"Just once?"  
  
It's Niall who asks them this time.  
  
There's just the five of them in the studio and they're having a break after two hours of rehearsals.  
  
Despite that, for some reason, Niall still felt the need to say it into his mic.  
  
Louis glares at him but all he gets is the biggest smile he's ever seen on Niall's face. He's been spending way too much time on tumblr, obviously.  
  
"More than once?" he insists, clapping his hands, getting closer to the microphone, basically making out with it.  
  
So Louis gets up from the chair he was napping on, he walks across the room, he grabs Niall's mic and "Mind your fucking business." he spells out.  
  
This way he can be sure they all heard it.  
  
Loud and clear.  
  
  


"Is it just sex?"  
  
Louis needs a holiday.  
  
He needs a whole month on a desert island in the middle of the ocean, no phone, no computer, no human contact whatsoever.  
  
At least Zayn had the decency to ask him when it's just the two of them.  
  
"You're supposed to have my back." Louis hisses, throwing the lighter in his face and missing.  
  
Zayn raises his eyebrows in surprise.  
  
"You didn't tell me! How was I supposed to-"  
  
"It's just sex." Louis cuts him off, before Zayn can make it look like it's his fault. "And it's over, anyway." he adds, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Zayn gives him a confused look.  
  
"Already?" he asks.  
  
Louis lets out an exasperated laugh.  
  
"You fucking ruined it!" he yells. "It was exciting, Zayn." he rambles. "Now it's just weird."  
  
Zayn shrugs but Louis can see his little smile.  
  
"What's so funny?" he barks, throwing him a cushion this time.  
  
Zayn's too high to keep it from hitting his face and that makes Louis feel a tiny bit better.  
  
Just for a moment, though.  
  
Just before Zayn "So it's not really about him, is that what you're saying?" provokes him.  
  
Louis squints his eyes at him, going through so many insults in his head he can't even pick one.  
  
"You ruined it." he decides, in the end. "So it won't happen again."  
  
  


He can't sleep.  
  
He's been trying. He's tried counting, eyes closed, body frozen, hoping sleep would come.  
  
He's tried listening to those stupid youtube videos with nature sounds and the ones that guide you through a magical tunnel made of love and light and some other shit he already forgot 'cause it didn't make sense, anyway.  
  
He's tried smoking and masturbating and blinking a thousand times in a row, he's tried _everything_ but it just won't work.  
  
That huge spider hasn't moved from the corner but Louis still checks on it every two seconds, eyes darting back and forth, skin itching at the thought of having it running around all over him.  
  
Well, tonight he can blame it on the spider.  
  
He hasn't slept in three days, but tonight it's the spider's fault.  
  
Definitely.  
  
"Come kill the ugly spider in my room." he whines into his phone. "I can't sleep."  
  
Harry hangs up on him without saying a single word and Louis feels like crying.  
  
Then Harry knocks on his door a minute later and Louis feels like crying even more.  
  
  


He can't sleep.  
  
He's tried reading and watching a movie and turning everything off.  
  
He's tried soothing music and slow breathing and masturbating again, 'cause that one usually works.  
  
He's tried a hot shower and a cup of chamomile tea.  
  
The spider is still there, all crumpled up in its corner, as dead as it can be.  
  
Louis still can't sleep.  
  
  


They're in London when Harry brings a girl back to his room.  
  
They're a few miles from their house, the one they live in. Together.  
  
Louis can't help but stare at them, stare when the sliding doors open and Harry comes through and she's there too, held close, his arm around her waist.  
  
He can't help but stare when Harry makes a bee line for the elevator, when he says something into her ear and she blushes, she laughs, she slaps him on the shoulder.  
  
He just can't help it so he stares, he stares at them when they get into the elevator and Harry pushes the wrong button, drunk and dizzy and disgustingly beautiful as he is.  
  
Louis wants to look away but he can't, not until the elevator doors start sliding closed and he sees her flipping her hair, blinking up at him, stepping into his arms, and Louis just stares, until he almost catches the moment their lips touch. Then he suddenly can't take anymore so he just looks away.  
  
It's late and it's dark and it's raining.  
  
The hotel is small and quiet and it's theirs for the night.  
  
They booked every room and Louis can't pick one to spend the night in, because all he can think about is that they're in London, they're _home_ and still, somehow, they have never been this far away.  
  
  


They're in Manchester when it happens.  
  
He hears someone coming into his room and he doesn't need to look, to know it's him.  
  
His heart goes batshit crazy without his permission, Harry gets into his bed without asking.  
  
"What's going on?" he asks him, voice low and broken.  
  
Louis doesn't answer, he doesn't move.  
  
"Why aren't you talking to me?" he asks, voice low and shaky.  
  
Louis doesn't even turn around, he doesn't even open his eyes.  
  
Then he hears him sigh, he hopes he's going to leave.  
  
Harry puts a hand on his back instead, and Louis wishes his heart would stop racing, he wishes Harry won't notice.  
  
He hears him sigh again, clear his throat, make up his mind.  
  
"Remember when you asked me," he says, so close to him Louis shivers. "whether I'd tell you," he says, so close to him Louis holds his breath. "If I were in love with you?"  
  
Louis shrugs.  
  
"Yeah." he croaks out, moving away from him. "But I never said I'd want to know.  
  
They're in Manchester when Louis pushes him away.  
  
  


He's kissing him but he's not really feeling it.  
  
The room is small and it's hot, Louis' about to fall off the bed and he's really thinking about dinner, more than anything.  
  
But this is happening now, so, okay.  
  
He tries to bite on his lip, make it more interesting, but he gets no reaction out of it.  
  
It's still boring and slow and Louis' thinking about fries now, which doesn't really help.  
  
So he breaks contact, rather abruptly, and "I'd better go now." he tells him.  
  
Luke's all flushed, hair going up in every direction, lips swollen and aching for more.  
  
But Louis' already texting Niall the burger emoji as he heads for the door.  
  
  


Louis needs to figure it out.  
  
He needs to find a way to make Niall talk about Harry without really asking him, which isn't supposed to be that hard for someone like Louis, someone who mastered the art of manipulation long ago.  
  
He purposefully orders extra ketchup - 'cause Harry's a sucker for ketchup - to force Niall's mind to make associations and it's definitely not working.  
  
So Louis tries sneaking a strategic word here and there, a _hairy_ and a _style_ that almost don't make any sense in their conversation, but Niall is still clueless and too focused on trying to remove the grease stain out of his sweats to notice.  
  
Nothing works but Louis knows there must be something, _there must be a way_.  
  
His last attempt goes just as badly as the other ones though, Niall won't get it, not even after Louis tells him he had a dream about Taylor Swift.  
  
It's a lie, but who cares, if it might get him there.  
  
Anyway, it doesn't.  
  
He decides to give up as soon as Niall shoves the last handful of fries inside of his mouth - which were _his_ fries, for the record - and he just wipes his hands all over his jeans, he gets up, "Later, Neil." he says.  
  
But then he stops, right there, in front of the door, when he hears Niall sigh.  
  
"Of course he's been talking about you." he hears him say.  
  
Louis' heart jumps right up in his throat.  
  
He twists his head enough to look at Niall's face, taking in his exasperated expression.  
  
Then he shrugs and "Who?" he pretends, furrowing his eyebrows.  
  
Niall has never looked so unimpressed.  
  
He crumples up his paper towel and he throws it in Louis' face.  
  
"Go talk to him." he spits out, pointing to the door. "Go."  
  
  


It doesn't go the way he thought it would.  
  
It's not even close to that.  
  
He was picturing tension and awkwardness which would most likely lead them into an argument, one of those where Harry gets all grumpy and unapproachable, one of those they've had a hundred times, where Louis is mad at Harry for being mad at him, so he yells at him and he makes fun of his clothes, calls him a hippie, blames him for just about everything that's wrong in the world.  
  
It doesn't go that way.  
  
Louis starts it the way he usually does, doing a small thing that makes Harry snap, giving him the perfect excuse to lash out at him.  
  
He goes straight to his room, he doesn't knock, he just barges in, ignoring the fact Harry's on the phone.  
  
He quickly looks around until he finds it, the tiniest thing he can use to his advantage, and then he walks up to his bed, he crouches down over the bedside table and "This is mine." he spells out, unplugging the charger from the outlet. "Stop taking my shit." he adds, yanking the cord out of Harry's phone.  
  
Harry's eyes narrow for a split second and Louis' so fucking ready for it, it's all taking shape in his mind, everything he's going to yell at him.  
  
Something like _what the fuck is wrong with you_ and / _why are you getting so angry over this, you frustrated little shit_ or even _don't fucking talk to me that way, Harold!_ , one of those or maybe all of them will do.  
  
But then, much to his surprise, Harry's lips curve into a little smile, then he shrugs and "Fine." he tells him.  
  
_Fine_.  
  
Louis' taken aback for a moment.  
  
This has never happened before, how does he even react to _fine_?  
  
Then he realizes Harry's still on the phone, and he's basically ignoring him, letting him boil into his own anger.  
  
What the fuck.  
  
So he just stands there, for what feels like an eternity, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows up, lips pressed together to keep his rage locked in.  
  
When Harry finally hangs up Louis corks his head to the side, he gives him his best bitch face.  
  
"Really?" he shrieks, slapping both hands against his thighs.  
  
The hint of a smile is still lingering on Harry's lips.  
  
He shifts on the bed, propping his head up on his hand, elbow digging into the mattress.  
  
"What is it, Lou?" he says, looking him up and down. "What can I do for you?"  
  
Louis' mouth drops open.  
  
Is this fucker actually doing this?  
  
Is he _actually_ being the bigger person, here?  
  
"How about you cut this passive aggressive crap?" Louis snaps, unable to move from where he's standing.  
  
Harry's face instantly gets a perplexed expression.  
  
Louis can't tame the annoyed laugh that escapes his throat.  
  
"I know you," he says, shaking his head. "Don't try and fuck with me."  
  
Harry smiles again, for real this time, a full smile stretching over his lips, teeth peaking out.  
  
"I know you too." he replies. "And I know what you want."  
  
Louis feels his stomach drop, heart pounding inside of his chest, hands shaking with the sudden adrenaline rush.  
  
"Yeah?" he hisses, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "Enlighten me."  
  
Harry's eyes won't leave him alone for a second, watching and searching all over his face, in a way that makes Louis feel small and vulnerable, naked.  
  
Then Harry gestures vaguely, he shrugs one shoulder and "You wanna fight." he casually says.  
  
Oh, he's damn right about that.  
  
"I do not!" Louis shouts, clenching his fists.  
  
That has Harry laughing, for some reason, rolling over onto the bed, grabbing his stomach with both hands, struggling to catch his breath.  
  
Louis is shocked.  
  
"Yes, you do!" Harry retorts, still trying to regain his composure. "Look at you."  
  
And Louis has never been so mad at him in his entire life.  
  
"Wanna tell me what's making you so angry?" Harry prompts, sitting up on the bed.  
  
Louis bites down on his lip, quick and sharp, body tensing up.  
  
"You've been ignoring me." he mutters, squinting his eyes.  
  
Harry tips his head back, he rolls his eyes.  
  
"You've been ignoring me." he corrects, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I'm just giving you space."  
  
Louis gasps.  
  
"So when I avoid you," he barks, finally taking a step closer to him. "I'm ignoring you, but when you do it you're giving me space, is that it?"  
  
Harry's not smiling anymore, he looks concerned now.  
  
He breathes in.  
  
"What do you want, Lou?" he says into a sigh, shaking his head. "Just tell me what you want so we can stop this."  
  
Oh, wouldn't that be perfect.  
  
Louis is just going to figure it all out while Harry can chill and speak on the phone and fuck girls in his hotel room and wear those ridiculous shirts.  
  
"I wanna know what _you_ want." he finally spits out. "Why don't we do that, for a change?"  
  
Harry looks down for a moment and Louis can immediately see it, in the way his posture and his expression and his breathing changes, he can see that he finally got to him.  
  
Then Harry brings his eyes back on his face, big and green and too damn easy to fall for.  
  
"You don't wanna know what I want." he tells him. "Not until you make up your mind."  
  
  


Only a few hours go by before he feels the need to confront him again, because, see, this is not acceptable, it doesn't work that way, it is not _fine_.  
  
So he waits until Harry's done trying on his new clothes, he waits until Lou is done fixing his hair, he waits until Paul gets out of the way and the boys gather to pick a place to eat and by the time Harry's available he's bitten his nails so hard and for so long that his thumb is bleeding.  
  
He walks up to him before he can lose sight.  
  
"Got five minutes?" he asks, failing at sounding calm despite his best effort.  
  
Harry nods and he quietly follows him into the restroom, shutting the door behind himself.  
  
"I haven't told you because-" Louis starts, getting distracted by his reflection in the mirror, by his flushed cheeks and his fucked up hair.  
  
He turns his back to it, shifting until he's standing right in front of him.  
  
"I don't even know why." he spits out, rolling his eyes. "But just so you know, Luke and I have this thing going on."  
  
He fixes his eyes on Harry's face as he speaks and he keeps them there when he's done, barely catching the way his nostrils flare, his jaw tightens.  
  
"Okay?" Harry says, giving him a disinterested shrug.  
  
"You're fine with that?" Louis questions, staring intently at his face.  
  
"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry asks, staring back just as insistently.  
  
Louis grits his teeth.  
  
_Because you are in love with me_ , is the first thing that comes to mind, quickly making its way down to his tongue.  
  
But he swallows it down.  
  
"I don't know," he chirps, laying back against the sink. "Maybe you thought this was-" he says, gesturing between the two of them. "Something?"  
  
And Harry can keep this up all he wants but there's only so much he can hide.  
  
Louis sees it, the bitter smile flashing on his face for a split second.  
  
"Maybe I did."  
  
Louis's eyes go wide, he quickly straightens his back.  
  
What.  
  
Now he just-  
  
What.  
  
He wants to say something but Harry takes that chance away from him.  
  
Because he clears his throat, he checks his hair into the mirror and then he leaves.  
  
  


This is stupid.  
  
They've known each other for years, they have a house together, they have seen each other naked more times than Louis cares to admit, they've shared the same bed more often than not, they know each other _so well_.  
  
What makes Harry think he has the right to act this way and get away with it?  
  
Louis is not done.  
  
This argument is not over.  
  
It is not _fine_.  
  
That same night he jumps out of his bed like it's on fire, he pads his naked feet through the long hallway and he tries to sneak into Harry's room.  
  
But it's locked.  
  
Harry locked it?  
  
Oh my God, _Harry locked it_.  
  
Louis turns around, he paces through the hallway, all the way back to his room, he grabs his phone.  
  
He only calls him when he's standing in front of his door again, heart racing, furious.  
  
Harry picks up immediately.  
  
"Open the door." Louis hisses. "Open this damn door."  
  
Before he can say anything else he hears a muffled laugh, some footsteps, a click.  
  
Harry swings the door open, standing tall in front of him, fucking huge and so damn stupid.  
  
"Let me in." Louis orders, trying to push past him.  
  
But Harry doesn't move an inch, he lets Louis run into him like an idiot, face smushed against his chest.  
  
When he pulls back, Harry's smiling.  
  
"What do you want?" he asks, clearly amused as Louis rubs his nose and winces.  
  
"I wanna come in." Louis blurts out, making a second attempt before Harry brings his hand up to shove at him.  
  
It wasn't a hard one but Louis still loses his balance, taking a few clumsy steps back until his ass bumps against the wall behind him.  
  
"What for?" Harry presses, watching him as Louis gets close to him again.  
  
"Because." Louis replies, stomping his foot. "Just let me in."  
  
He's freaking out, he realizes, because every time he says something he needs to catch his breath.  
  
Also, every muscle in his body is telling him to punch Harry in his dumb face, which counts as freaking out as well.  
  
Harry frowns at him, his arms fall down to his sides.  
  
"What do you want." he spells out, slow and fed up, eyes burning a hole onto his skin.  
  
And Louis is sick of standing in the hallway, sick of trying to break through a wall, sick of Harry being so stubborn.  
  
So he bites on the inside of his cheeks, shifting on his feet as he tries to find the right words, he looks back at him with murder in his eyes.  
  
Then he flicks his fringe to the side, he tilts his chin up and "I want you to fuck me." he states.  
  
Harry's face barely reacts, as if he was only waiting for him to say it.   
  
He keeps staring at him for a moment, serious and cold and frozen in place, until Louis starts believing he's going to reject him.  
  
Then Harry finally smiles, slow and sweet, dimples carving little holes into his cheeks, and he moves aside.  
  
Louis doesn't say anything as he gets inside, because he is too angry and too horny to speak.  
  
Harry smacks a hand on his bum as he walks, but Louis doesn't complain.  
  
Why would he?  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts?  
> What would you like to happen?  
> I love (and need) feedback, don't be shy. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is finally over!!!  
> Jesus!  
> I've hated this fanfiction so fucking hard before I finally learned to love it.  
> But now I do ç_ç It is my baby, after all.  
> And I think I did manage to make it better.  
> Hope you guys enjoy <3

"When you want something from me," Harry says against his stomach "you just ask for it and I'll give it to you."  
  
His lips touch his skin, warm and soft, just for a moment, just above his navel, and Louis' entire body jerks up.  
  
Harry lays his hand on his tummy, keeping him still.  
  
"So if you wanna get fucked," he starts again, glancing up at his face. Then his mouth gets dangerously close to his skin again and Louis' eyes squeeze shut.  
  
"I'll fuck you." Harry concludes, breathing against him.  
  
Louis' frozen, body tense, mouth shut.  
  
Harry's hand slowly travels down his body, brushing over the erection trapped in his pants.  
  
"What do you want first," he asks, bringing his hand back up, until it's resting on Louis' chest. "Want me to put that pretty cock in my mouth?"  
  
Louis jolts up again, he spreads his legs a little.  
  
"Want me to eat you out?" Harry murmurs, as his hands find their way to Louis' ass, cupping and waiting.  
  
Louis lets out a shaky breath.  
  
"Want me undress you?" Harry tries then, sneaking a finger between his cheeks and pressing down lightly.  
  
"Yes." Louis blurts out, licking his lips.  
  
Harry yanks on his pants, sudden and rough, leaving his thighs exposed, punching his heart right up his throat.  
  
Then he gets rid of them and he comes back up, tugging at his briefs.  
  
Louis' cock falls hard and heavy against his belly, already getting wet at the tip.  
  
"What do you want now?" Harry asks him, and his voice dropped all of a sudden, sounding low and warm.  
  
He's leaning over him now, resting his weight on his forearms, and he doesn't seem to care that Louis' been trying to reach up and kiss him for a whole minute.  
  
Harry rubs two fingers on his lips, looking down at him with dark, hungry eyes.  
  
"Kiss me." Louis finally huffs out, digging his fingers into his arms to pull him closer.  
  
Harry bends down and presses their mouths together, and just that has Louis squirming, closing his legs around him to keep him there.  
  
"Open your mouth." Harry says to him. "Wanna taste you."  
  
Louis just obeys, letting his lips part so Harry can slide his tongue inside.  
  
He kisses him hard and deep, tearing the first moan out of him.  
  
When he pulls back Louis' left gasping for air, blood rushing down his body and straight to his cock.  
  
"Touch me." he pleads, arching up. "Put your hands on me."  
  
Harry looks at him for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth, then he wraps his fingers around his throat, barely squeezing, feeling Louis' pulse hammering under his touch.  
  
"Want my hands on you, baby?" he blurts out, tracing an invisible line between his collarbones, down to his chest and his stomach, until his hand is sitting heavy on his cock.  
  
"Right here, yeah?" he teases, giving him the first tug.  
  
Louis whines, pushing his hips up.  
  
"Got you all turned on." he says, stroking him slow and firm, spreading the wetness around.  
  
Louis digs his heels into the mattress, chest going up and down, mouth gone dry.  
  
Then Harry picks up the pace little by little, he watches him as Louis clenches the sheets, fucks up into his fist, getting closer and closer to his orgasm.  
  
So he suddenly withdraws his hand, he clicks his tongue disapprovingly.  
  
"Eat me out." Louis huff out then, changing his mind about touching himself the moment Harry grips his wrist.  
  
"Turn around, then." he tells him, getting hold of his hips. "Get on all fours."  
  
Louis nods his head compulsively, letting Harry flip him and shifting until he's on his knees.  
  
He barely has time to draw one single breath before Harry's burying his face in his ass, flattening his tongue against his opening.  
  
Louis yelps, he rubs his sweaty forehead over the pillow and he spreads his legs further, trying to give Harry better access.  
  
Harry starts moving his tongue, licking long, languid stripes over his hole, and he holds him up as Louis falls apart, turning into a whimpering mess.  
  
"What do you want next?" he asks him, breath crashing against his hot, sensitive skin. Then his mouth is back on him, tongue forcing its way inside.  
  
Louis moans, his legs almost give out but Harry keeps holding him up, fingers digging into his soft hips.  
  
"Want your cock." he whines, "Inside." he adds, sliding down the bed until his face is pressed into the mattress, his own arms stuck under his weight.  
  
Harry slaps his hand against his ass, making him squeal, then he squeezes roughly at the flesh.  
  
"Already?" he grits out, sticking one finger inside with no warning, twisting it around as Louis clenches down on it. "Wanna get fucked already." he murmurs, adding a second finger, fighting the stretch carefully.  
  
Louis' making all kind of sounds, squirming on the bed, desperately rubbing his cock all over the crumpled sheets.  
  
"Fuck me." he's begging him, even when there's three of Harry's fingers inside of him, even though he knows what he's looking for, and that it's gonna be _so good_ when he finds it.  
  
"Want your cock." he chokes out, pushing back with all the strength he's got left. "Fuck-" he pants, throat closing up the moment Harry's fingers curl and jab his prostate.  
  
"What's going on?" Harry whispers, purposefully doing it again, harder, better, just to have him gasp that way a few more times. "Not talking to me anymore, baby?" he says, slowly pulling his fingers out.  
  
Louis' body crashes down onto the mattress, like Harry's touch was the only thing holding it up, and he rolls over, looking for Harry's eyes before he "Fuck me." hisses, upper lip curling and exposing his teeth. "That's what I want." he adds, breath shuddering as soon as Harry starts crawling up to him, eyes glossy and wild, and he only stops when he's got him underneath him, legs spread and pressed to his sides.  
  
Louis blinks up at him, feeling relieved just with his body pressed against him, moaning at the sound of his zipper opening.  
  
"Do you miss it?" Harry asks him, and Louis knows he's touching himself, he can feel his hand bumping against his stomach, can hear the way his breath is catching in his throat.  
  
"Your cock?" Louis mewls, placing his hands over Harry's chest, pulling on his shirt. "Yes." he admits, lacing his fingers through Harry's hair, losing his mind over the way he's looking at him.  
  
"Gonna fuck you so good." Harry promises, as Louis reaches for the drawer, hand shaking as he rummages inside of it.  
  
Harry tears the rubber out of his hand and he suddenly pulls back, he gets rid of his clothes and he puts it on.  
  
"When?" Louis scoffs, mouth watering the moment Harry makes his way back to him.  
  
"When you shut up." Harry spits out, yanking him down the bed and climbing on top of him.  
  
Louis sucks in his bottom lip, he nods his head because he just needs Harry to take him, _he needs him to fuck him_.  
  
He keeps his mouth shut and he just looks up at him, as Harry pushes the tip of his cock past his rim, stretching him out slowly, pressing down on his tummy to keep him still.  
  
"See?" he whispers, knocking their foreheads together. "I'm always gonna give you what you want." he reminds him, picking up the pace with every thrust.  
  
And Louis wants it to last forever but his body has gone way past his limits, so he just comes, moaning inside of Harry's mouth when he leans down to kiss him.  
  
He only regrets it after it's done, that's his problem.  
  
But he aches for it when they're apart.  
  
What can he do, if they're this good at making mistakes?  
  
  


 

"Aren't you going to do anything about that?"  
  
At first Louis thinks it's his own voice talking to him, the one that's been going crazy in his mind for over an hour, the one he's been trying to ignore so fucking hard.  
  
"Louis?"  
  
Then he realizes it's Niall who's speaking to him, and that's the only reason he manages to tear his eyes away from Harry.  
  
"About what?" he blurts out, trying not to pay attention to the stinging in his cheeks.  
  
"We're keeping it casual." he quickly adds, as his eyes inevitably dart back to the back of the room, to Harry, to the girl he's flirting with.  
  
Why would that bother him?  
  
They're not together.  
  
It does not bother him. In fact, he might even go down there and be his wing man, like a good friend would do.  
  
"We're friends." he says, dragging his eyes back on Niall's face. "We talked about it." he informs him, smiling at the waiter who offers him champagne, accepting yet another glass.  
  
"Besides," he starts over, taking a sip. "I have other plans as well, tonight."  
  
Niall tries to take the glass away from him but Louis steps back and "Stop worrying about it, Niall." he tells him, emptying his glass in one go.  
  
Then he burps, he shakes his head, he looks around, trying to remember what he was about to say.  
  
"Ah, yes!" he goes, poking Niall's chin with one finger. "We're good, that's what I mean." he chirps, winking at him.  
  
Niall frowns.  
  
"Honest to God," Louis insists, taking advantage of Niall's concern to snatch his glass of champagne out of his hand. "Harry and I are good." he concludes, disappearing into the crowd.  
  
  


 

Harry's wearing one of his stupid shirts tonight.  
  
Louis was pretty sure he had thrown it away a while back, while Harry was asleep, but here it is, looking just as stupid as him, with that horrible animal print.  
  
And he's told him a thousand times that nobody wants to see his tits.  
  
Despite his efforts, here they are, Harry's tits, slipping out every now and then, two nipples out of four clearly visible, as he moves and leans closer to her.  
  
He's such a dork.  
  
"Yeah, you're about to do something stupid."  
  
Louis had recognized his cologne before he even spoke to him.  
  
He rolls his eyes, refusing to turn around.  
  
"Fuck off, Zayn." he spits out. "For your information, Harry and I are-"  
  
"Keeping it casual." Zayn cuts him off, and Louis heard that, that little chuckle.  
  
What the hell is so funny?  
  
"Do you think he's doing it to get on your nerves?" Zayn asks him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  
  
Louis wants to punch him.  
  
"No." he grits out. "You know him, he'd flirt with a tree if it stood in his way long enough."  
  
Zayn responds with a laugh, he rubs his hand over Louis' back, relieving the tension sitting between his shoulder blades a little bit.  
  
"Don't do it, Lou." he tells him then, mouth pressed to his ear, voice high and pleading.  
  
Louis pulls away from him.  
  
"Do what?" he hisses, flicking his fringe to the side out of habit more than anything.  
  
Zayn munches on his bottom lip.  
  
"Don't make a scene." he finally says, sighing.  
  
Uh, what?  
  
Louis narrows his eyes at him.  
  
"We talked about it." he spells out, stumbling a bit as Zayn pulls him closer and makes a gesture for him to lower his voice.  
  
"He left it up to me." he whispers, clenching his fists. "And I decided that-"  
  
"That you're gonna pretend you don't want him all to yourself for a little longer." Zayn interrupts him, fixing the collar of his shirt. "But it won't work." he continues, smoothing a hand through his hair, getting it out of his eyes. "You're drunk," he says. "And you're gonna do something stupid."  
  
Louis chokes on his saliva in the attempt of insulting him and Zayn patiently pats him on his back until he's properly breathing again.  
  
"Just go to bed." Zayn recommends, before leaving a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose and ditching the party.  
  
  


 

If he remembers correctly, his room is the one at the end of the hallway.  
  
The problem is that the hallway won't stop moving for a minute, long enough for Louis to cross it.  
  
He tries to steady himself with a hand pressed to the wall but his legs just won't listen tonight, they're obviously trying to sabotage him.  
  
If he remembers correctly, all of these little dots and lines he's seeing right now are the same ones printed onto the carpeted floor and that's the first hint he's fallen down.  
  
The second one is the burning sensation in his knees.  
  
"For fuck's sake."  
  
Louis winces because, out of all people, Liam Payne is the one he wants to see the least right now.  
  
But he's also the one who picks him up, so maybe he's not that bad.  
  
"Are you hurt?" he asks, holding him up by his arms.  
  
Louis thinks about it for a second, then he shrugs, he shakes his head.  
  
"Back to bed." Liam orders, trying to push him back into his room.  
  
Louis doesn't think so.  
  
It took him a fucking century to get halfway there, he's not going back.  
  
"No!" he protests, darting towards the opposite direction.  
  
Liam sighs, he follows him, preventing another accident when Louis trips again.  
  
"Where are you going?" he snaps, gripping his wrist and forcing him to stop.  
  
Louis tries to free himself, pushing on his chest and threatening to bite his arm, but Liam easily avoids him, keeps him from falling once more.  
  
"I forgot my uh-" Louis improvises. "My Ipad in Zayn's room."  
  
Liam looks at him, skeptical and tired.  
  
"You don't have an Ipad." he argues, frowning. "You broke your Ipad a week ago, ran it over with your skateboard."  
  
Oh, right.  
  
"And then you threw a tantrum and smashed it on the floor." Liam reminds him. "Actually breaking it."  
  
Yeah, that sounds familiar.  
  
Louis would argue anyway, but he's too busy fighting the vomit trying to climb up his throat.  
  
Liam gets distracted by it for a second, lets go of his arm to press a hand to his forehead.  
  
So Louis "Spider!" yells, sprinting towards the end of the hallway.  
  
He finally reaches Harry's door, face-first, but it's a small victory.  
  
"There's a spider in my room!" he squawks, banging his fists against the wood. "Harold! We have a spider emergency here!"  
  
He turns around, catching the moment Liam retreats into his room, then he breathes in and "Spideeeeer!" he shouts.  
  
  


 

Harry tucks him into bed, shoves at him when Louis tries to get up.  
  
"Stop." he just says, furrowing his eyebrows.  
  
Then he straightens his back and he places his hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling.  
  
Louis makes himself smaller, squeezes his eyes shut.  
  
"Louis," Harry calls him, shuffling closer again. "Where's the spider?"  
  
Louis makes a vague noise, he shrugs.  
  
"Louis." Harry repeats, serious this time, a tad annoyed maybe.  
  
"Must have run away." Louis blurts out, covering his mouth with the duvet.  
  
"Look at me." Harry states, sitting on his bed.  
  
Louis slides further down, disappearing under the covers for just a moment before Harry abruptly tears them off.  
  
"Did you make the spider up?"  
  
"Did you fuck her?" Louis retorts, finally opening his eyes.  
  
Harry's irritation immediately fades away, replaced by a surprised expression.  
  
"Did you?" Louis presses, making grabby hands at him until Harry helps him sit up.  
  
Then he looks away, because Harry is staring at him and he hates it, can't stand how self conscious it's making him.  
  
"Three days ago you said-"  
  
"I know what I said." Louis cuts him off, crossing his arms. "Would please answer my question?"  
  
Harry grabs his chin with two fingers, makes him turn around again.  
  
Then he smiles.  
  
"I didn't." he says.  
  
Louis bites on his bottom lip, trying to hide his relief and ignore his upset stomach at the same time.  
  
"Okay." he mutters. "Go," he decides, trying to push him off his bed. "I'm tired."  
  
Harry's still smiling, he's all teeth and dimples and sparkly eyes.  
  
He nods his head, but just as he's getting up Louis finds himself reaching for his hand, pulling him back.  
  
" 'cause, you know-" he mumbles, avoiding his gaze. "I don't want you to fuck other people."  
  
There.  
  
He said it.  
  
Fuck it.  
  
"For now." he adds, focusing his eyes on Harry's hand, the one he's gripping, and dragging his thumb over his cross tattoo.  
  
Then he shrugs, he shakes his head.  
  
"Don't listen to me." he tells him. "I'm drunk, don't listen to me."  
  
Harry laughs and Louis still refuses to look at him.  
  
Then he lets go of his hand, positively shoves it away and "Don't mind me." he adds, kicking him off his bed. "But yeah, don't fuck other people." he reminds him, as Harry turns the light off.  
  
"I won't, Lou." he hears him say, before he shuts the door.  
  
  


 

So that happened.  
  
Well, it didn't count. It does not count if you are drunk and sleepy and not making any sense.  
  
Everybody knows that.  
  
Everyone but Harry.  
  
Because as soon as Louis tries to leave their room Harry grips his arm, he yanks him back and "Behave." he tells him.  
  
_Behave_.  
  
And Louis would say he is annoyed by that, but it would be a lie.  
  
Truth is, it sets him on fucking fire, head to toe.  
  
He shrugs, he swallows and "Have I ever?" he retorts.  
  
But Harry's not really in the mood for games.  
  
He pulls him closer, staring right into his eyes and "Behave." he repeats.  
  
Then he just lets go of him and Louis doesn't know what to do.  
  
He hesitates for a moment, asking himself if he should just jump on him or leave him standing there.  
  
Harry is still looking at him, seemingly relaxed, not a care in the world.  
  
Louis leaves him standing there.  
  
  


 

When has he ever behaved?  
  
He's not sure he even grasps the meaning of that word.  
  
"It means don't fuck around." Niall explains, frowning at him.  
  
Louis scoffs.  
  
"But that's my favorite thing in the whole world." he whines, making Niall's frown even deeper, angrier.  
  
It looks weird on his face.  
  
"You're lying." he spits out.  
  
Now that's new.  
  
"What do you mean I'm lying?!" he snaps, jumping up from the couch.  
  
Niall's all flushed and irritated, Louis can't remember the last time he's seen him this way.  
  
"You favorite thing is not even a _thing_." he finally says, all garbled and rushed.  
  
And Louis sees where this is going, it's pretty clear, but he can't help himself.  
  
"Cock _is_ a thing, Niall." he provokes, smiling. "Even though it might seem alive, sometimes."  
  
Niall's not in the mood for games, either.  
  
Louis doesn't need him to say that name to know it's what he really means and, most importantly, he doesn't want to hear it.  
  
So he leaves him sitting there.  
  
  


 

When Luke approaches him his first instinct is hiding.  
  
Then he remembers that feeling, the one that coursed through him when Harry told him to behave, the one that shook him all up.  
  
He even pretends he hasn't noticed that Harry's there too, not so subtly checking on him, and suddenly Louis' wondering what's gonna happen if he just.  
  
_Misbehaves_.  
  
So he leans forward, until his lips are pressed to Luke's mouth.  
  
That's all it takes.  
  
  


 

It's all it takes to realize that Harry's not going to do shit about it.  
  
  


 

“You say he’s in love with me!” Louis barks, slapping Liam’s protein shake out of his hand and into the wall. “And you fucking convince me he is!” he adds, punching him in his shoulder. “But then look what happens! See what happened?”  
  
Liam patiently takes another punch, he shrugs.  
  
“What?” he tries.  
  
Louis’ mouth drops open.  
  
“Nothing happens, Liam!” he yells. “Because he doesn’t care enough!”  
  
Liam rubs his forehead, but he doesn’t say anything.  
  
There’s nothing he could say.  
  
  


 

Harry insists on not talking to him.  
  
Like _he_ is the one who should be mad.  
  
He blatantly ignores him day after day and Louis is this close to stabbing him with his fork every time they sit at the table together.  
  
But he doesn’t. Today's not the day. He finishes his breakfast and he lets Harry ignore him for another week.  
  
  


 

“Babe, you messed up and you know it.” Zayn states, despite the fact Louis has spent the past hour explaining to him how badly Harry messed up.  
  
He can’t tolerate Zayn’s attitude.  
  
“Be my fucking friend!” he shouts, pacing back and forth through Zayn’s dressing room.  
  
He only comes to a halt when Zayn steps right into his space, raising both hands and resting them on his shoulders.  
  
“I am.” He whispers. “And I need you to listen to me.”  
  
Louis sighs, he bites on the inside of his cheeks.  
  
“Okay.” He mutters. “Listening.”  
  
So Zayn nods his head, he makes sure Louis is looking into his eyes the whole time and finally “You messed up.” He tells him.  
  
But why.  
  
Why is it all his fault when Harry’s never been able to speak his fucking mind for the past three years. Why.  
  
Why is it Louis’ fault.  
  
It took Harry three years, _three whole years _to have the guts to fuck him, like it wasn’t _obvious_ that he had been drooling over him since _forever_.  
  
And it took Louis’ permission for him to make a move, Louis literally had to climb over him and give him a boner to get him to do something.  
  
Harry has no spine and Louis gets the blame when things between them end before they even start?!  
  
He is the one who messed up?  
  
Zayn’s still looking at him, rubbing at his shoulders a little bit.  
  
Louis breathes in.  
  
“I know.” He replies.  
  
He knows he messed up.__  
  
  


____

____

 

How is he supposed to do this?  
  
How is he supposed to fix this, when Harry is not even talking to him.  
  
Why the hell should he be the first one to say something?!  
  
" 'cause you're the one who-"  
  
"I know Zayn, shut up!" Louis snaps, dumping his cigarette in the ashtray.  
  
He needs to stop getting high with Zayn.  
  
This mind reading thing is not fun anymore.  
  
"It's not mind reading, you dickhead." Zayn laughs. "You speak out loud."  
  
"I know that too." Louis tells him through gritted teeth.  
  
Then he decides to leave.  
  
He doesn't say goodbye to Zayn only because he's not a hundred percent sure he hasn't done that already.  
  
Whatever.  
  
  


 

Harry makes it clear as soon as Louis sneaks inside his room.  
  
"I'm not talking to you." he tells him.  
  
Now that's not really nice, is it?  
  
But Louis' here to fix it so he has no time to listen to his nonsense.  
  
"Fuck you." he says, walking towards his bed. "Yes, you are."  
  
Harry sighs, loudly and annoyingly, then he sits up.  
  
"I mean," he says, clearing his throat. "You're baked. I'd rather do this when you actually understand what's going on."  
  
Louis' barely paying attention, he's too busy trying to kick his shoes off.  
  
"Why." he huffs out. "Do _you_ know what's going on?"  
  
He ends up leaving one of his sneakers on, crossing his legs onto the bed all the same.  
  
Harry flicks the lamp on.  
  
"Louis. Not now." He declares, furrowing his eyebrows.  
  
Louis might be baked, he _might_ be, but he can still see how serious Harry looks right now, can hear his tone of voice, low and steady.  
  
He gets it, what Harry's saying, and he knows he's right.  
  
Probably.  
  
But he also knows he misses him. He misses him so much.  
  
"I miss you so much." he says, feeling instantly embarrassed at how broken his voice sounds.  
  
He feels small and stupid and so out of place, but he keeps his eyes right on Harry's face, catching the way his jaw relaxes.  
  
"I miss talking to you." he continues, subtly leaning closer to him. "And I miss your lame jokes."  
  
His cheeks feel warm and sticky, but it takes him quite a while to realize he's crying like an idiot.  
  
Harry smiles in response.  
  
"You're right," Louis adds, sniffling. "I have no idea what's going on."  
  
He doesn't care, either.  
  
Not right now, at least.  
  
He clumsily climbs on top of Harry the best way he can, which involves bumping his forehead against his nose and sticking his elbow into his ribs, but he gets there.  
  
Harry's probably chocking on his hair, but he finally holds him.  
  
"I miss your smell." Louis mutters against his shirt, breathing in deep. "I miss kissing you." he says, as his face gets squished harder against Harry's chest and his whole body slumps forward.  
  
Then he hears the springs creaking and he realizes they're lying down now.  
  
It feels nice and warm. He missed it.  
  
"Hush." Harry whispers, leaving a small kiss on the top of his head. "We'll talk tomorrow."  
  
Louis' eyelids feel heavy and swollen from all the pathetic crying, but he can't give in, he's not done.  
  
"I don't wanna lose you." he sighs, blindly looking for his hand until he can lace their fingers together. "Don't wanna fuck it up. What we have." he rambles, squeezing tight on Harry's hand until he holds him closer.  
  
"We won't." is all Harry tells him.  
  
For tonight Louis won't ask for more.  
  
Well, maybe just a little more.  
  
He tilts his head up, brushing his nose against Harry's cheek.  
  
"How about you fuck me now?" he mewls, grinning against his mouth. He can feel Harry's lips curling up into a smile.  
  
"Sleep." he tells him, patting his back.  
  
Louis snorts.  
  
"Not even a quickie?"  
  
Maybe he'll say yes to that.  
  
Louis has no idea how he's going to do it though, considering the fact he can't even feel his own body, has no clue of what position he's in right now.  
  
But Harry can put him in the right position anyway.  
  
"Sleep." Harry repeats, shifting until Louis' lying on his side. "And maybe I'll press my boner against your bum." he corrupts him.  
  
That does sound convincing.  
  
Louis hums happily once Harry gets closer and spoons him. "Deal." he mumbles, right before falling asleep.  
  
  


 

When he wakes up Harry's not there.  
  
He can hear the water running, can hear him humming a 1975 song, hissing 'cause he probably got shampoo in his eyes.  
  
Louis takes his clothes off, patiently waits for Harry to be done, heart beating excitedly in his chest, cock getting harder as soon as Harry starts padding his feet towards the bedroom.  
  
Then he sees him, standing tall and wet before him, eyes reddened and sore - he did get shampoo in them - lips pressed together.  
  
Louis gives him a mischievous smile, then he rolls onto his tummy, sticks his ass up a little.  
  
"Come back into bed, darling." he chirps, swaying his hips.  
  
Harry huffs out a laugh but he doesn't move.  
  
Louis' still looking at him from over his shoulder, glaring now.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"They're probably waiting for us." Harry tells him, _getting dressed_.  
  
Louis does not like this game.  
  
He shifts his weight on his knees, giving Harry a better look of his ass.  
  
Then he reaches back until he can part his cheeks a little.  
  
"I'm waiting for you, too." he provokes, teasing his hole with one finger.  
  
And Harry's _dying_ , he's fucking choking.  
  
Still, he ties his hair up, glancing at Louis through the mirror.  
  
"Are you fucking serious?" Louis whispers, throwing him a pillow.  
  
Harry grabs it before it can hit his head.  
  
He gets closer, he puts it back in its place and "Get dressed." he says.  
  
Then he hesitates, just for a second, but in the end he leaves.  
  
_Is he fucking serious_?  
  
  


 

"The show starts in fifteen minutes, Louis." Harry scolds him, buttoning up his shirt.  
  
Louis slaps his hands away, he undoes the buttons again, then he tries to take Harry's T-shirt off. "Isn't that just perfect?" he purrs, rubbing himself against him. "Fifteen minutes is more than enough, yeah?" he presses, forcing a condom into his hand.  
  
Harry swallows hard, but he's frowning.  
  
"Stretched myself open for you." Louis whispers in his ear, almost making it to his crotch before Harry grips his wrist.  
  
"Get ready." he grits out, stepping back.  
  
Louis follows him, shoves him against the wall before he can run away.  
  
"I _am_ ready." he hisses, standing on his tiptoes to bite at his lips.  
  
Harry lets out a little moan.  
  
"For the show." he insists, finally managing to push him off.  
  
Then he slips the condom inside of Louis' pocket, brushing his hand against his cock, and Louis could fucking scream.  
  
"Don't be late." Harry concludes, leaving him alone in the dressing room.  
  
  


 

"I don't like this game." Louis whines, hugging Harry from behind as he tries to get into his hotel room.  
  
"You're mean." he mumbles into his back, biting at it right after.  
  
The door clicks open and Louis jumps up, wrapping his legs around him.  
  
"It's not a game." Harry states, stepping inside and putting his stuff on the bedside table, like Louis' entire weight is not resting on his back.  
  
"What is it then?" Louis hisses, biting his neck this time.  
  
Harry finally gets sick of it, reaching back until he can pry him off of himself.  
  
Louis drops onto the bed with a little shriek.  
  
Harry climbs on top of him, spreading his legs apart.  
  
"Yes!" Louis squeals, pulling on Harry's T-shirt. "Fuck tiiime!" he sings, smiling up at him.  
  
Harry laughs, he shakes his head.  
  
Louis' too excited to actually register that, so he focuses on sucking Harry's fingers into his mouth.  
  
Harry lets him, eyes growing wide and dark, breath getting erratic.  
  
Louis looks up at him with big, blue, begging eyes, and he knows exactly what he's doing.  
  
Harry hasn't gotten that blowjob yet, after all.  
  
Which is a shame.  
  
And Louis' most powerful weapon.  
  
He carefully pulls his fingers out of his mouth and "How about I do that on your cock." he whispers, slow and filthy.  
  
Harry's face crumples up into an agonizing expression.  
  
Bingo.  
  
"You can do that-" he blurts out, suddenly bending down to press their mouths together. When he pulls back Louis' fighting to catch his breath, hands running feverishly up and down Harry's chest.  
  
"You can do that once we talk this out." Harry says.  
  
Uh. What.  
  
Louis would argue with that, he really would, but Harry's really big compared to him, he's a fucking giant, a big, stupid, wild animal, pulling on his wrists until Louis rolls off the bed and yanking on them until he's outside of his room.  
  
Alone.  
  
In the hallway.  
  
Rock hard.  
  
_What the fuck is happening_.  
  
  


 

Harry won't fuck him.  
  
No matter how many times Louis gets naked and splayed onto his bed before Harry has enough time to stop him, no matter how many times he bends over and arches up and presses himself against him any way he can.  
  
Harry won't fuck him until they _talk it out_.  
  
It's getting ridiculous.  
  
  


 

"What is there to talk about?!" Louis snaps when Harry pushes him away to pull his skinny jeans back up. For the third time that afternoon.  
  
They're in Milan when Louis gives up.  
  
"It's pretty clear, innit?" he barks, plopping down onto the couch and giving his cock a little apologetic squeeze.  
  
It's not his fault Harry's being unreasonable.  
  
But he's been horny for weeks and it can't go on.  
  
Harry's playing tough guy but he's still out of breath, just as desperate as him, sitting down on the armchair just to keep some distance.  
  
"Keeping it casual clearly did not work." he states, brushing his disheveled hair out of his face. "So we either stop this, or we find another way."  
  
Louis scoffs.  
  
"If you just fucked me I assure you it would work!" He yells. "You're torturing me!"  
  
Harry sighs.  
  
"Sex is not a solution." he declares, crossing his legs like he wants to remind him he's not seeing his cock any time soon. "If anything, it could be a consequence. Once we settle this."  
  
Louis squints his eyes at him.  
  
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he hisses, clenching his fists. "This is black mailing."  
  
Harry laughs at him.  
  
"I don't owe you anything, you know." he simply explains, raising his eyebrows.  
  
Louis bites hard on his bottom lip.  
  
"You owe me an explanation, actually." he informs him, standing up from the couch.  
  
Harry corks an eyebrow.  
  
"Why didn't you do anything?" Louis asks, sticking his finger into his chest. "You'd just let me fuck another guy? That's how much you want me?"  
  
Harry stays still for a moment, and Louis' feeling good about it, he shut him up, look at him.  
  
But then Harry wraps his hand around his wrist, slowly getting up as well, and Louis' not feeling so good anymore.  
  
Harry's too tall for him to feel smug.  
  
He's towering over him, looking down at his face with a disappointed expression.  
  
"I don't care who you fuck." he hisses, gripping a little tighter on Louis' wrist. "You can shag the whole crew, for all I care."  
  
Louis looks down, suddenly too overwhelmed with hurt and anger to even insult him. So he starts pulling back but Harry won't let him.  
  
"I don't give a shit." he insists, using his other hand to grip his jaw and tilt his head up, forcing him to look at his face.  
  
"That won't keep you from being mine." he says then.  
  
Louis' heart jumps up into his throat.  
  
Where is he going with this?  
  
"But I need to know if you want that, Louis." He tells him, finally letting go of him.  
  
Louis' this close from falling down onto the floor and crying.  
  
But he won't.  
  
"You wanna know what I want?" he hisses, struggling to properly breathe.  
  
Harry just nods, looking back at him.  
  
"I want you to cut the crap and say what you think, for once. That's what I want."  
  
"I just told-"  
  
"No, shut up." Louis cuts him off, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "Shut the fuck up." he insists, slapping him again and again, until Harry steps back.  
  
"You're such a coward." Louis continues, despite the tears stinging in his eyes. "You've kept your mouth shut for years, _for years_ , hoping and wishing and waiting for _me_ to do something."  
  
Harry's munching on his lip, looking at him with wide green eyes, what looks like an offended expression on his face.  
  
"I didn't want to scare you away." he blurts out, voice all scratchy and weak.  
  
"Bullshit!" Louis laughs. "You're just making excuses."  
  
Harry furrows his eyebrows, he takes a long breath before speaking again.  
  
"Am I?" he argues. "You look pretty scared to me. Despite the fact you're the one who started this."  
  
Louis can't believe this.  
  
"Are you actually still blaming me for not making it easier for you?" he shouts, punching him this time, hard and quick in his chest.  
  
Harry stops him when he tries again, grabbing both his hands with no effort.  
  
"Why don't you take a hard look at yourself?" Louis spits out, slumping forward to push him. "When are you going to start fighting for what you want, instead of just looking at it and jerking off to cope?"  
  
"You want me to fight?" Harry finally says, struggling a bit more to keep him still. "You wanna know?"  
  
Louis' crying at this point, there's no need to try and hide it, he's too far gone to care.  
  
He's even sick of trying to hurt him and kick him and punch him, so he just stops, and Harry can just walk him into a corner, like he always does, leaving him no other choice than dealing with him.  
  
Then he grabs his face with both hands, looks into his eyes.  
  
"I am in love with you." he says, even if it catches in his throat. And Louis was expecting it.  
  
He knew it, he's known for a while.  
  
But here he is, almost passing out with how fast his heart is pumping blood into his body, breath slipping further out of control.  
  
Harry sneaks an arm around his waist, keeps him up against the wall.  
  
"I want us to be together." he says then, just to make sure Louis fucking dies already. "I want you to tell me exactly how you need it to be, so I can give you just that and make it work, make it last."  
  
Then he bends down, pressing their forehead together.  
  
" 'cause I want you so fucking much." he whispers. "I'll do everything it takes."  
  
Louis lets Harry kiss him, tries to kiss him back but his lips can't stop shaking, his mouth has gone dry.  
  
"Okay." he says in the end, as Harry brushes his fingers on his cheeks, drying them up the best he can.  
  
He takes a shaky breath, gently pushing on his chest until Harry takes the hint and steps back.  
  
"Okay." he repeats, finally breathing in and out like he's supposed to, coming back to his senses. "I'm gonna think about it." he tells him then.  
  
Harry scrunches up his nose, he shrugs.  
  
It's not what he was expecting.  
  
"Good." he replies, rubbing at one of his eyes. "Good."  
  
  


 

They kiss.  
  
That's all they do for the following week.  
  
Harry follows him into his dressing room and he kisses him before the show, slow and gentle and passionate, leaving his taste in his mouth for hours. He kisses him again after the show, hard and fast and desperate, day after day, for an entire week.  
  
He never asks for an answer, he patiently waits and just kisses him any chance he gets.  
  
Until their European tour ends and it's time to go home.  
  
  


 

"Are you sure?" Niall asks him, as Louis shoves all of his belongings into a bag and throws it into the car right after.  
  
"I'm shitting myself." Louis replies, closing the trunk.  
  
Niall pouts.  
  
"You guys are made for each other. What could go wrong?"  
  
Louis kisses him on his cheek and "Everything." he simply says.  
  
Then he drives away.  
  
  


 

Everything could go wrong.  
  
He has this awful feeling sitting heavy on his belly, this paralyzing fear of fucking it up.  
  
It'd be so easy to fuck it up.  
  
They might last a month, maybe a week, before it all goes down the drain. And when that happens there's no going back.  
  
There's no Harry and Louis anymore, inseparable since day one, obnoxiously close, too young and co-dependent to know better.  
  
Bought a house together, share clothes and secrets and handjobs under the covers, Harry and Louis.  
  
Tell each other everything.  
  
Miss each other when they're in different rooms.  
  
They have so many inside jokes the boys have given up on trying to get them.  
  
They never fight.  
  
They bicker, they wrestle every now and then, sometimes Louis sticks his finger into his mouth and then into Harry's ear just to mess with him.  
  
But they don't fight. They get along, they get each other.  
  
No one gets him like Harry does.  
  
Maybe that's why he forgot how to function without him.  
  
Nobody knows Harry the way Louis does.  
  
Maybe that's why he always looks for him when he steps inside a room.  
  
They _used to_ get along and tell each other everything.  
  
Until they screwed up.  
  
Now they fight all the time, they keep shit to themselves.  
  
They're on the verge of throwing all they have out the window.  
  
That's why Louis' shitting himself. He can't let that happen.  
  
He stops to buy cigarettes and he finally finds the guts to text Harry.  
  
They usually spend their break together but it won't happen this time.  
  
Louis' headed to Doncaster, he needs some time away from him. From the two of them.  
  
-Okay. x - Harry replies at first.  
  
Louis gets back into the car and his phone vibrates again.  
  
-Come home?- Harry wrote this time.  
  
Louis can't fuck this up.  
  
So what if they're in love with each other.  
  
It's not worth the risk.  
  
  


 

He gets inside the house as the sun is setting slowly behind the trees, he takes his shoes off.  
  
"I'm home!" he shouts, despite the fact the house feels asleep.  
  
He hears footsteps coming down the stairs, something being knocked to the floor and crashing to pieces.  
  
"You're home!" Harry cheers, beaming.  
  
He stands at the bottom of the stairs, unable to move towards him, and they just look at each other for a while, smiling like two idiots, holding back nervous laughter.  
  
"Yup." Louis finally says, shrugging, because _fuck it_.  
  
Harry's smile gets even wider, carving deep dimples into his cheeks.  
  
"And I'm in love with you." Louis casually adds, throwing his hands up. "What can you do."  
  
Harry finally moves, he starts walking, then running towards him, and next Louis finds himself crushed against his body, limbs tangling together until they both plop down onto the floor.  
  
Harry pulls him on top of himself, yanking on his arms until Louis bends down and kisses him.  
  
And they're so stupid, aren't they?  
  
Harry and Louis, both in their twenties, both young and rich and successful, splayed out onto the hardwood floor, kissing and crying and laughing into each other's mouths, like they have all the time in the world to mess around.  
  
"First of all," Louis says, planting both hands on Harry's chest to lift himself up and look at his flushed face. "We are exclusive." he states, rolling his eyes at Harry's pleased smile. "Because your cock is property of Louis Tomlinson, now." he continues, as Harry pretends to sign an invisible contract hanging in the air.  
  
"And second of all?" he prompts, gently squeezing on his hips.  
  
Louis pulls himself up enough so he can spread his legs and climb onto his lap.  
  
"Second of all," he reflects, wiggling his bum around. "If you ever withhold sex from me again, I'm killing you in your sleep."  
  
Harry hums, he nods.  
  
"Seems fair." he observes, as Louis undoes his pants.  
  
"And last but not least," Louis says, straightening his back so Harry can take his shirt off. "You're going to take care of my every need, no matter where you are or what you're doing, you'll come running whenever I snap my fingers. Is that clear?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.  
  
Harry snorts.  
  
"Tell something new" he retorts, flipping Louis underneath his body.  
  
They might last a month, or even a week before it all goes down the drain.  
  
"Are you done?" Harry asks, sucking on his lips. "Will you shut up and let me take care of your every need now?"  
  
Louis laughs, he gestures zipping up his mouth as Harry takes the rest of his clothes off.  
  
It takes him a minute to change his mind, though.  
  
"Also," he says, as Harry places his cock into his hand. What a nice present. "Nothing happened that day. Between me and Luke." he admits, stroking him lazily.  
  
Harry smirks.  
  
"I know." he informs him. "Will you shut your mouth now?"  
  
Louis' going to slap his face when they're done.  
  
"If I shut my mouth," he says, rolling his eyes at him. "How am I gonna suck your cock?"  
  
  


 

They might last one day, you never know in life.  
  
Truth is, chances are they're probably going to last forever.  
  
Louis thought that would scare him, but it actually makes him feel safe.  
  
What can you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes? No? Maybe?  
> Let me know if you like it <3
> 
> Also, if you did enjoy it, please share this post on tumblr?  
> [Click here to reblog](http://smokingluckiesalltheway.tumblr.com/post/176599598786/o-b-l-i-v-i-o-u-s-speechless-read-here-19)! <3
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> Thanks for your support <3


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